


Bring me to worship (or open my eyes)

by TheonlyDan



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Greek and Roman Mythology, Hercules (2014)
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/F, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:15:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29719854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheonlyDan/pseuds/TheonlyDan
Summary: Atalanta stood out from the rest on the battlefield. She carried a lethal aura, like a scarlet flower with silvery petals decorated in blood. The lights reflecting from the soldiers’ armors weren’t blinding; Atalanta was.
Relationships: Atalanta/Ergenia (Hercules 2014)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Bring me to worship (or open my eyes)

Ergenia had heard plenty about Hercules, yet not so much about his companions. In the hands of her father’s rule, people did not speak of myths in vain—good outcomes were expected. Values like strength in hard labor, absolute loyalty, or fruitful marriage were celebrated.

Maybe that was why the name _Atalanta_ was murmured in caution.

Ergenia found herself drawn towards the unspoken. She was more curious about the warrior’s choice to follow a _man_ when she was born an Amazon. Why she chose to follow Zeus’s son when allegedly, she already had Artemis’s blessing.

Ergenia indulged her son to learn everything about the mighty Hercules. In the shadows, Atalanta was the secret religion she harbored.

It didn't take long to realize she had latched onto a bad habit.

Then her god appeared alongside the son of god. Seeing Atalanta was like falling down a cliff and soaring into the clouds.

Alas, she was a princess and had orders to follow, gold to offer.

***

Atalanta stood out from the rest on the battlefield. She carried a lethal aura, like a scarlet flower with silvery petals decorated in blood. The lights reflecting from the soldiers’ armors weren’t blinding; Atalanta was. Her auburn-red hair was colored bronze, platinum and blonde. Ergenia was sure she was squinting for the sight of a specific Amazon, not the sunlight.

The princess blinked when her focal point flickered. Her breath caught in her throat when she discovered herself looking into the eyes of Atalanta.

From afar, Atalanta stared at her, unblinking.

Ergenia felt too warm when the Amazon flashed a smirk, subtle for the others to miss but specifically enough for the princess to see.

She smiled back hesitantly.

***

It was less daunting than she expected, being caressed by a woman. Deep in the night when Ergenia walked timidly into Atalanta’s tent, it wasn’t her goal to be naked and writhing under the Amazon.

“Please…” She found herself saying, lips trembly and kissed-swollen, “I need more.”

“Of course you do.” Atalanta cooed, her taut upper arms being gripped by the princess of Thrace. Her thrusts remained unhurried and it only made Ergenia more aware of every jolt Atalanta sent up her system. It had been too long since someone touched her this way.

The warrior’s body felt softer than presumed. But it wasn’t like Ergenia had fantasized about being pleasured by her own goddess with mouth and hands.

“Oh my gods…” She whimpered when the Amazon descended to her lower section, burring her head between her legs. Arousal flushed out in waves. It was the most titillating sensation Ergenia ever felt. She should be feeling dirty at getting so whorishly wild for a stranger. Instead, she was filled with recklessness and passion: zeal for a woman she trusted for no logical ground.

“It is all me, darling.” Atalanta chuckled and did a move with her tongue. Ergenia thrashed. It felt like a shock opening her up for more stimulation. Ergenia wasn’t sure if she could bear any more of this…exquisite _soreness_.

Not knowing what to do, she searched blindly and suddenly Atalanta was there to hold her hand. Ergenia took it and held on.

And she swiftly came undone, with noises she didn’t know she could make.

“You look gorgeous.”

The warrior placed a chaste kiss on the crown of her forehead. Ergenia’s heart fluttered in her chest. Her hands glided downwards but were intercepted by Atalanta.

“I want to be good to you.”

The princess was confused, her cheeks rosy after her climax.

“Next time, princess.” A dark, joyful smile leaped onto the warrior’s features, “After we win.”

***

They didn’t have that next time because Ergenia realized she was never a goddess. She was human with the same battle-lust and the desire to conquer.

Ergenia didn’t have time for disappointment. She had better things to do when her son was taken away by her monster of a father.

Then to be beheaded by her own blood. She screamed her throat raw. Distantly she heard Atalanta crying out for her. Maybe that was what humans do as well, caring about one another rather than embracing deaths—gods could easily live a thousand years.

Maybe there was no god when Hercules saved her with god’s strength, and saved her people by clashing a replica of a god. _God lives in all of us_ , Ergenia came to understand, standing in the ruins and firming her grip upon her son’s tiny hand.

It was over for the hero Hercules after he confronted his past. But it was far from finished for the _queen_ of Thrace, now having to raise a son into a ruler, and to lead a broken kingdom.

She let her son said goodbye to his idol while she went to look after the wounded.

***

“You’re bleeding.” A female voice commented. Ergenia jerked her head towards the source of the sound too fast that she saw momentary black stars.

“It’s nothing serious, Atalanta.” She sounded quiet and strained, “I would tend to it later.” She carefully resumed her task with her stomach doing flips, “I thought by now you’d be leaving.”

“Do you prefer it that way?”

The Amazon’s gaze was sharp and attentive. Ergenia’s hands were steady as she wrapped up the feverish soldier’s gash. Atalanta didn’t wait for consent to pick up another soaked cloth, and started to clean the cuts on the back of her arm.

“It’d be better you were gone.” Ergenia muttered, “But I want you here.”

A wind slightly stronger than breeze swept into their space, distilling the odor of death and smoke of the residual flames. Atalanta’s injuries were probably twenty times more than hers, but now the fatigue warrior’s brows knotted in concentration, as she smeared a healthy amount of ointment over her cuts.

It stung, only a bit.

“And so be it.” Atalanta grinned until her eyes crinkle, all her stoic lines softening in brilliance like the setting sun. Ergenia mirrored her expression and wasn’t sure if she was tearing up for the medicine for her body, or for her soul.

**Author's Note:**

> Ooops, first fic in this fandom  
> Please tell me what you think;) Kudos, comments, and suggestion are LOVED


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